Mischief Managed Y2 Part 2: The Truth of the Tournament

Chapter Seventy-One: Collapsing

Summary: James screaming....that's it...that's the summary ~;)

Song: Dream is Collapsing by Haz Zimmer

AN: I VERY rarely choose a non-lyrical song, but the vibes absolutely had to be right for this scene. Let me know what you think or if you have a better fit. I was looking for something fast but dark enough that also had a title I could use

.................................................

James had managed to squeeze himself into a tight crevice. Bloody cuts covered his whole body, which ached in the few places it didn't sting, but it drastically beat the alternative. How did he end up here?

When he had first gained consciousness, he gagged on a putrid scent, reminding him of when he'd forgotten an egg salad sandwich under his bed before falling asleep. Only the pungent odour that greeted him easily put waking to mouldy food to shame. He coughed and spluttered, trying to catch his breath. The air still felt musty and rank, but the smell of the place was truthfully the least of his worries.

The second sensation James had regained was getting dragged roughly across uneven rocky terrain. A hand only partly covered in soggy, pulpy flesh gripped his ankle. If the fist had only consisted of suspiciously slippery skin, he might have come to the delirious conclusion a professor was dragging him. However, several fingers devoid of the rotted sinew and decaying flesh meant only the rough feel of something cold and suspiciously bone-like remained.

Once his sight returned, dirt greeted him, probably because he'd entered some tunnel. At this point, his brain still had not caught up, and he remembered blinking repeatedly as if that could clarify his situation. Finding no answers on the ceiling, he habitually glanced at who kept yanking him, tiredly blaming Sirius for the bizarre prank. But he'd been so wrong!

The caved-in head of a partly rotten corpse had jerked its face towards him. Milky white, unseeing eyes filled James with the certainty of his unavoidable death. Maggots crawled across the leathery necrotic face, unnoticed by the grotesque creature. Too-taught skin stretched over a partly visible skull provided a glaring reminder that life no longer inhabited the monster. For as long as James lived, he would never forget the sight of the Inferius' darkened cracking lips, pulling into a poor excuse of a smile, showing off its decaying yellowing teeth—a gruesome sight made worse by tiny black spiders scuttling out of their previous prison. James may or may not have wet his pants at that point.

But he didn't want to think about that now; he couldn't. How he managed to escape remained a mystery to him, one crucial he solved, lest it hint at how he could get out of this mess. James racked his brain for information. He had grown up hearing the horror stories of Inferi whenever he got to play with children his age. The haunted tales of wizards and witches dragged off, never to be seen again, had been present at every sleepover and bonfire. Everyone knew once an Inferius had you in its grasp, that was it, game over. Only James had escaped...

All he remembered was his loud sobs drowning out the deep-throated groans emanating from the corpse whose suffering would never end. A rather inhuman whine had escaped James at being faced with potentially meeting the same cruel fate. He had even wished his death had resulted in the green light the ghost in the Forbidden Forest had shown him instead, a kinder fate than whatever awaited him. James had almost deliriously convinced himself he was dreaming the most terrifying, vivid nightmare he had ever experienced.

Then, the hand had abruptly let him go...

James recalled how he had bolted with all the adrenaline he possessed. With no idea where to go, he randomly picked a direction, nearly slamming into two other Inferi. The calm stupor the first one had possessed was nowhere to be seen anymore. It was as if the monsters had snapped out of some trance. The now mindless creatures had chomped their teeth in anticipation, an awful offbeat chorus comprised of a ravenous desire to kill.